


Retribution

by OccasionallyIWriteStuff



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: #NoMercyPercy, Blood, F/M, Gen, Not Super Graphic But It's There, Post Episode 66, Torture, pre everything else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8015488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionallyIWriteStuff/pseuds/OccasionallyIWriteStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vox Machina catches up with Dr. Anna Ripley in the desert and a brutal battle ensues before Anna is defeated and Percy is eager of what she's been doing since their reunion in Whitestone two months ago.</p><p>After their talk, some of the other members of Vox Machina are worried for their friend and take time to talk to Percy, though some to more effect than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to write something that will be refuted by canon in less a month probably. Hope you enjoy it.

            The world slows and Percy feels the Bad News punch its recoil into his shoulder before the thunderclap of its shot cuts through the desert air. Even before he hears Dr. Anna Ripley scream as the bullet claims her remaining hand, Percy is already moving out from behind the sandstone boulder he’d claimed for cover. Percy moves slowly, each step deliberate and with purpose as he slings the Bad News across his back and pulls the Retort from his hip. He watches Anna fall to her knees and stops in front of her kneeling form, no more than ten feet away.

            The desert has been cruel to Anna. Her face is burned red from the scorching sun and her fine traveler’s clothes are ripped and ragged from the unrelenting sand. The metal of the claw acting as her right hand is pitted and warped. Percy watches as she struggles to clamp the piece around her other wrist in an attempt to stop the bleeding from her new stump.

            Anna raises her head briefly to look at Percy and he catches her eyes. Though they are wild with pain Percy can see the calculations running just beneath the surface, hunting for any way to survive this encounter. “Are you going to kill me?” The basis for all her calculations. She needs to know if Percy is going to grant her mercy in these next few seconds or if it will be wasted breath.

            Percy doesn’t honor her with an answer and instead clenches his hand around the Retort’s grip even tighter. “Keyleth, would you mind stopping her from bleeding out?” There is a shuffle across the sand and Percy watches as Keyleth kneels down next to Anna and presses her hand against the wounded woman’s shoulder. A dull light flares and Percy smells the scent of cactus blooms in the air before a fresh patch of skin grows over Anna’s wound and the blood stops. Keyleth turns her head towards Percy and he nods in acknowledgement.

            The rest of Vox Machina begin to gather around Anna in a small circle. Grog and Scanlan are at each of Percy’s shoulders while Keyleth and Vax are to Anna’s sides. Vex takes position behind Anna and notches an arrow in preparation for whatever is about to happen. All of them are looking at Percy and waiting.

            He knows why they’re watching him. They’re waiting to see if the cruelty he had granted the Briarwoods two months ago will return. There’s something different in each of them as he scans across their faces. Grog, still coming down from his rage, looks eager for the bloodshed and nods at Percy, hand still on his axe. Scanlan looks from Anna to Percy and gives a grim smile of acknowledgement. And while Vax and Keyleth have their concern painted clearly across their whole faces, Vex’s emotions are hidden beneath a mask that Percy cannot penetrate.

            “Now Percy-”

            The hammer of the Retort clicks into place as Percy thumbs it back and aims between Anna’s eyes. “Do not call me that.” He keeps his voice low and dangerous but an eerie calm is present that he hadn’t been expecting. “You don’t get to call me that.”

            Anna swallows and nods in understanding before dropping her eyes and releasing the clamp on her left wrist. She drops her hands to her sides and raises her head again. “Percival.” There’s a pause as if she is waiting for permission, but when none is granted she continues anyway, “It has been some time.”

            Percy doesn’t lower the Retort and keeps his arm steady despite the knot in his stomach. “What’s two months between friends, Anna,” Percy runs him thumb over the embedded residuum and whitestone in the hilt of the gun he’s holding, the memories still fresh in his mind. “I’m surprised your enchantment didn’t give you enough warning to slip away.” His words are cruel and Anna narrows her eyes at him.

            “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order for figuring it out and being able to disable it then.” Anna’s eyes shift to her right and Percy sees her gun sitting in the sand five feet away from her claw before snapping her attention back. There’s a breath between the two of them where both suspect that the other is about to make a sudden move but neither does. Percy instead takes slow step forward to pick the gun from the sand, never taking the Retort’s aim off Anna.

            The gun is a simple thing, similar to the Retort in shape except for a slightly larger reload chamber and longer butt and barrel. Additions designed to add stability and aim though they would detract from the penetration power of the bullet. It was made of iron with no details beyond the Anna’s emblem on the base of the gun, the gentle hum of the tracing magic that had been in the Retort’s butt palpable and familiar as Percy runs his thumb over it.

            “Your craftsmanship continues to disappoint, Anna.” Percy considers putting the gun at his hip but remembers Scanlan’s position and instead tosses it over to Vex. She looks surprised but catches it and stows it away before placing her arrow back on the bowstring and looking down at Anna.

            “I can’t help but notice the irony of you saying that while holding one of my creations, Percival.” Anna turns her head to asses which members of Vox Machina are where. As if that made any sort of difference to her predicament.

            Percy looked at the Retort and the modifications he had made to it, both physical and visual, “The Pepperbox was destroyed in acid shortly after our last encounter so I had to make do with what I had.” Percy catches Anna’s eyes, “Even if it is cheap knock-off.”

            Anna’s nostrils flare and she glares at Percy. “What do you want, Percival?”

            “What makes you think I want anything from you?”

            “Because,” Anna’s eyes focus on the gun pointed at her, “if you were going to kill me, you’d have already done it.”

            Percy blinks and pushes his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps,” Percy pauses. “What were you doing in Vasselheim with Viktor’s black powder?”

            A thin smile crosses Anna’s lips. “So you want answers? Then you must make assurances that I will be left alive once I provide them.”

            “No.”

            “Then I won’t tell you anything. You need me alive-”

            _BANG!_

            The Retort’s bark cuts through Anna’s sentence and blood sprays across Percy’s pants as a hole appears in Anna’s right thigh. She grunts in pain and gasps before pressing both her arms to the wound and applying pressure. Percy meets her eyes when she raises her head and he can see the terror there.

            “I don’t need you for anything.” Percy moves the Retort so it is pointed between Anna’s eyes once again and he thumbs the hammer back slowly. “I would appreciate if you made this easier for us, but if you don’t then I have no problem finding out what you’ve done without your help.”

            Anna grits her teeth in an angry grimace, her voice strained with pain. “Fine. Heal my leg and I’ll tell you.”

            Keyleth begins to move forward to administer healing but Percy stops her by holding up his hand. “Actually, I think that you’ll tell us now.” There’s a moment of pause where Keyleth seems as if she’s going to continue forward but instead she pulls back, a hint of fear on her face.

            “What were you doing with Viktor’s black powder?”

            Anna presses on her thigh harder and looks down at it instead of keeping eye contact with Percy. “I have experiments too, Percival. I’m sure you noticed the improvements I made to my latest design.”

            “This may come as some sort of surprise to you, Anna, but I’m not an idiot.” Percy drops the Retort’s aim so that it is at Anna’s other thigh. “Twelve hog’s heads don’t equal one gun by my math and I would hate if you were lying to me right now.”

            There’s a pause before Anna’s head comes back up and the color drains from her face. “Percy-”

            _BANG!_

            Anna’s scream of pain brings her sentence to a halt as an almost identical hole appears in her other thigh. Percy sees Keyleth moving forward again, and again he stops her.

            “Anna needs to know that this isn’t a negotiation and that we aren’t going to stand for her lies.” Percy pulls the hammer of the Retort back again, the smoke from the barrel coiling unnaturally around the metal and his hand. “And I believe I have already told her not to call me Percy.”

            Vax’s voice is quiet, almost pleading, when it comes, though Percy doesn’t look towards him, “Percy, this isn’t you,” Vax motions towards Anna who had fallen onto her back, writhing and gasping in pain.

            There’s a breath where Percy considers Vax’s words. That maybe he is right and that maybe Percy isn’t what he is and Anna doesn’t deserve this.

            But then it’s gone.

            “Now, I want to know the truth.” Percy takes a step closer so that he is standing over Anna. Her face is white and her eyes unfocused. She’s shaking now and her breathing is quick and shallow. “This is the last time I’ll ask, Doctor. What were you doing with Viktor’s black powder?”

            Anna shakes her head, mouth in a tight and tortured smile. “You’ll kill me if I tell you.” Her voice is sounds as if it is being spat through her gritted teeth and is full of a resentment that Percy feels resonate with the darkest parts of his being.

            _BANG!_

            The shot hits the sand next to Anna’s ear, nearly taking it off and the woman flinches violently away from the sound.

            “I’ll kill you whether you tell me or not, Anna.” Percy’s voice is quiet, so quiet that he doubts the rest of Vox Machina can hear him. But Anna can, and that’s all that matters. “The only difference will be _when_ I kill you.”

            Anna’s eyes seem to light with the recognition of what that statement could mean for her. The possibility of life beyond the next few minutes. She begins to speak rapidly, almost in a frenzy, “You changed the world when you forged that first gun, Percival. You might not realize it, but I have. I knew from the second I heard of it that there was never any going back.”

            “What are you talking about?” Something was swirling in Percy’s stomach. Remnants of Orthax and dread stirring together. He can’t help but notice that the smoke from his last shot is still curled around the leather of his gloves.

            Anna shakes her head, “It was so hard to replicate. You know how I love a challenge, Percival, and I’ve never struggled more in my life than when I was trying to replicate the Pepperbox from only eyewitness accounts.” Her words are wild and she holds up the claw attached to her right hand, “It cost so much more than gold as I’m sure you’re well aware.”

            “You didn’t,” Percy breaths as the realization of the only thing that twelve hog’s head of black powder could mean hits him. He feels the dread and rage building as he sees the pieces fitting together and the reluctance of Anna to speak of her actions begins to make more sense.

            Tears begin to stream down Anna’s face as she looks up at him and sees the violence building. “You can’t stop history once it been made. I was just helping my buyers move it along.” Anna sobs and Percy hears the shuffle of his companions around him.

            Percy feels his heart catch in his throat. “Buyers.” It isn’t a question.

            “Yes,” Anna nods, face pressed against the sand. “There were more than a few willing to buy. I was just doing my part to help push the world forward, Percival. Surely you understand.”

            Percy feels his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his breathing starts to come in heaves. Anna had sold guns. And knowing her, she wouldn’t care who she was selling to. His inventions for righting the world and helping fix what was broken sold to anyone who could afford them. His most prized pieces of art, in the hands of people who could use them to break apart so many lives. The bullies of The Clasp using his inventions to threaten people who refused to bow. The underlings of the Chroma Conclave using his guns to spread their influence and threaten Whitestone. Murderers intent on overthrowing a town’s government and killing a family, leaving only a teenager and child alive, using his guns to get their way.

            He was the reason Anna had been able to sell the guns. He was the reason that so many people were in danger now. Because not only had he brought guns into existence, but he’d also let someone crazy enough to replicate them and grant their power to whomever escape with their life two months ago. In deciding to let Anna be free, Percy had let the potential for so much damage loose on the world.

            Percy’s mind comes back to him and he snaps his head back down to Anna from where it had strayed, the pit of smoke in his stomach swirling with white-hot rage, “Who did you sell the guns to?”

            Anna shakes her head, her last card apparent. “I won’t tell you.” Her voice is shaken but filled with resolve for the last chance she has. “If you let me live, I’ll tell you all their names and where you can find them.” Anna locks eyes with Percy, tear stains on her cheeks from where they had been wiped away the sand. “I’m not the only one to take notice of your genius, Percival. I can help you find others who were trying to replicate your work too. You just have to let me live.”

            “Who did you sell the guns to?” Percy’s voice is low and smoke is swirling furiously around his hand as more begins pouring from the corners of his mouth.

            Anna shakes her head and keeps her mouth in a tight line.

            “TELL ME NOW.”

            Anna is shaking hard now, each breath heavy, “You won’t kill me, Percival. You won’t kill a defenseless woman in fear for her life. Not in front of your family.”

            There is a pause between the two as the words hang in the air:

            “You’re not a monster, Percy.”

            With narrowed eyes, Percy bends at the knees so that he is sure that only Anna will be able to hear what he whispers, “If you’ve truly studied me for as long as you claim, then you should know by now that I truly am a monster, Anna. You should know that every day from here on out, history will be condemning you for what you did. You should know that when I die, I will find you in whatever afterlife there is and I will never let you rest. I am the monster who lit the match and you are the animal who ignited the fuse and I hope you know the true weight of your sins like I know mine.” Percy takes a breath and stands to his full height, “And I’ll kindly remind you that the only reason I have them, is because my first family was buried five years ago after you strolled into their home.”

            Anna’s eyes widen before the gun comes into her view, “Please, don-”

            _BANG!_

            The Retort, the first gun created by hands other than those of Percival de Rolo, brought to life only from whispers, rumors, and the obsession of a scientist to push the world into a new era, fires it’s last shot and Dr. Anna Ripley goes slack with a tiny hole between her eyes.

            Percy drops the Retort into the sand and strips Cabal’s Ruin from the body before stepping away and scanning the faces of his companions. Their faces are a mixed bag of emotions. Grog has a smile and is nodding his head slowly while Keyleth is frowning and staring at Percy with a sad look. Scanlan seems nonplussed, unbothered by the murder of a defenseless woman and Vax is carefully trying to keep his emotions behind a mask, though Percy can see the concern through the cracks. And Vex. Of all of them she seems the most worried and it seems as if she is about to take a step forward before she stops herself and doesn’t, carefully crafting a façade to hide her emotions behind.

            The bodies of the sand creatures and various guards and mercenaries that Anna had hired are strewn about the desert dune and Percy thinks of looting them before he begins walking back the way Vox Machina had arrived. His voice carries through the desert air, tight and controlled:

            “I’m not sure about you all, but I think I could use a nap.”

            Silence is the only response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #NoMercyPercy. Hope you enjoyed reading. Drop a kudos or comment if you're so inclined. I really appreciate it.
> 
> EDIT: Welp. Not even close.


	2. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vax, Keyleth, and Vex all decided to talk to Percy about what happened with Dr. Anna Ripley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lot more heavy on the emotion than the action in this chapter. Hope you enjoy.

            Vax and Keyleth manage to corner Percy against one of the columns in the foyer after dinner that night before he can sneak away to his workshop. A busy mind and busy hands always help him clear his head after a difficult day.

            “How’s that new cloak treating you, Percival?” Vax nods his head towards the vestige clasped to Percy’s coat and raises his eyebrows expectantly. It’s an innocent question, but Percy can see the intent behind it thanks to Keyleth’s face, which couldn’t be clearer in broadcasting the conversational direction.

            Percy shrugs, quickly taking in the how close the two are standing and the way their shoulders keep brushing against each other. They’d been friendlier lately, which was nice. Percy had been growing sick of Vax’s moping and Keyleth’s longing stares. “I haven’t gotten the chance to spend any time with it and attune to it but I suppose it looks rather nice doesn’t it.”

            Keyleth smiles widely, but it isn’t full of the light it usually is, “Yeah, it does.” Her smile shrinks before it fades completely, “Um, Percy.”

            “Yes?” Percy looks to his side with hopes that Scanlan will save him, but he continues to walk by and towards his room, seemingly unconcerned with Percy’s predicament.

            “Today was kind of intense for you,” Keyleth’s tone is careful and probing but not unclear in her desire to discuss what happened. Percy could never understand how Keyleth managed to string so many emotions into her voice despite being utterly lacking in conversational ability. “Would you like to talk about it?”

            Percy takes a breath and considers his options. He could lie and say there is nothing to talk about. That would likely lead to more conversations in the near future with these two or conversations behind his back with the others. Which made perfect sense in all honesty, they knew him better than to believe him when he lied to them so bold facedly. And though Percy loved his friends, he had no desire to spend every few days deflecting conversations and they would likely leave him, saying they couldn’t trust him if he wasn’t willing to be honest with them.

            He could say, “Yes,” and have a conversation about the ramifications of his actions on the history of the world and how he was a monster for releasing the plague of firearms etc. That path would likely take him down the road of assurance that he isn’t a monster. They’d repeat that in different forms until they thought he believed it because they didn’t truly understand what it was like to have given yourself fully to the darkness and never truly come back from it. And Percy would have to lie and say thank you and pretend that what they said helped. Then he would be able to consider his options moving forward without worrying about party interventions.

            Or, Percy could hope that they’d both drop this conversation now and walk away, never to bring it up again.

            “It seems like you two want to talk to me about it,” Percy keeps his voice even. Cracking now would only prolong the suffering.

            Vax and Keyleth look at each other, something passing between them before they look back at Percy. Keyleth is the one who speaks first, “Well, we are just worried that, even though you’ve lightened up a lot these past couple months, you kinda killed a defenseless woman after torturing her.” Keyleth grimaces, the disappointment flashing across her face.

            “Yeah,” Vax speaks up, “I mean, I know she helped kill your family and I’m all for giving shit bags like that what they deserve, but that might have been a bit much, don’t you think, Percival?”

            Percy blinks in surprise. He’d forgotten that no one had heard his last comments to Anna.  This was just about the fact that he’d killed her. What a relief. “Oh, yes, well,” Percy puts a grimace on his face, “I just. It’s been a long two months thinking about the mistake of letting her get away back in Whitestone. And when she told us that she’d been selling guns and I don’t know who has them or where they are or what they plan to do with them, I just lost a bit of my control.” Percy catches Keyleth’s eyes before switching to Vax’s, “It was a bit drastic but sometimes drastic is just what you need.”

            Vax takes a step closer and puts his hand on Percy’s shoulder, grip too tight to be totally friendly, “We all saw the smoke, Percival. Are you sure there isn’t something more?”

            Percy gives a painful smile, “I’m afraid I’ll be a smoking hazard the rest of my life with how much a part of me Orthax was.” Neither Vax nor Keyleth seem to appreciate the humor but Percy continues regardless, “But he’s gone now and I was a bit angry. Nothing more. Tracking down the guns will just have to be another thing to add to the list of items we must attend to after we deal with the Conclave.”

            Vax takes a step back and removes his hand as Keyleth speaks, “We’ll help you find the guns and deal with them, Percy. I know you’re worried but just because they are out there doesn’t mean they are doing evil.”

            Percy looks between his two friends. “I suppose that is true, but I would much rather know than be left guessing.”

            Vax and Keyleth look at each other again, another something passing between them before Vax looks at Percy, “So would we. If you ever need anything you know that any of us will help you right? You’re not sitting in the corner all bottled up because you think no one understands or is willing to listen?”

            Percy hears the suspicion in Vax’s voice and rubs the back of his neck, “Of course not.”

            “Good.” There’s a pause and Vax looks at Keyleth again before he steps away from the small group.

            Percy, taking this as permission to leave, begins to walk away before he hears Keyleth again, “Percy.”

            “Yes?” He turns back to face Keyleth.

            “You know that we all love you right? That you deserve it?”

            Percy smiles, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach. “I know.”

* * *

 

            Vex approaches him late that same night. Her knocks sound on the workshop door, three sharp _raps!_ that cut through the stiffening silence of the room. Percy steps over to the heavy door and slides the latches and locks so that he can pull it open. He’d known it was Vex before he’d opened the door. She was the only one besides Scanlan who even knew where the workshop was in the Mansion but that didn’t stop his stomach from doing a little flip when he saw her.

            “Evening, Vex.” Percy inclines his head in a polite, but informal bow. It’s uncommon to see her out of her armor and in simpler clothes, and feels strangely as if Percy is seeing her naked. And though Percy has long since realized that physical beauty has no effect on him, it is still uncomfortable to think of Vex naked and he pushes the thoughts away.

            Something brown and furry pushes past Vex’s right hip and snorts its annoyance at being forgotten and Percy smiles, “And to you as well, Trinket.” Percy takes a step back from the doorway to let Vex in, but she instead only leans forward against the doorway and crosses her arms.

            “Percy,” Vex’s voice is quiet, almost a whisper. She catches Percy’s eyes with her own, “How are you feeling?”

            A knot twists in Percy’s stomach as he grimaces, “I talked to Vax and Keyleth earlier so I wouldn’t be too worried if I were you.” Percy’s words have an edge to them that he didn’t intend but Vex doesn’t seem to take notice. Instead she simply uncrosses one of her arms and begins scratching Trinket’s head. “They’ve implied that I’m on probation now,” Percy smiles though it is forced.

            “Yes, well,” Vex doesn’t return the smile, her face neutral and voice short, “I’m not them and I’m not here to scold.” Percy blinks in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that kind of reaction. “It’s not every day you get all,” Vex struggles to find the word for a second, “smoky, like that. Are you alright? Just remnants I assume?”

            Percy lets out a sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in, “I think so. I don’t feel as cruel as I did with the Briarwoods.” Percy runs his hands down his face out of habit and smears oil down his cheeks. “I feel like I would tell you if I had gone back to where I was.”

            “And where are you now?”

            “Where I belong.”

            Vex’s eyes narrow as she seems to catch the double meaning of his words. “And where is that?”

            Percy shrugs his shoulders, keeping his voice and face even, “What is this about, Vex?”

            “Well,” Vex brings her hand up and runs it through her hair, “Earlier today, with Anna, I saw what you said to her, at the end, before you killed her. And I’m just worried that you’re going to get too caught up in your own head about it.”

            “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” Percy replays in his mind what the rest of Vox Machina had heard him say. The last thing they had heard was that they were his family, nothing for Vex to be overly concerned about. “Are you worried about me calling you all family?”

            “No,” Vex takes a very deliberate pause, placing emphasis on her response, “I know you’re very smart, Percy, but I don’t think you heard what I just said so I want you to think about it for just a second.” Percy blinks in response before Vex raises her eyebrows, waiting for him to respond.

            “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about but-” Percy stops as he realizes the word he’d missed in what Vex had said. She’d said she _saw_ what he’d told Anna. Not heard.

            Vex can read lips.

            “Ah,” Percy swallows the lump that has suddenly formed in his throat, “That.”

            Vex gives a smug smirk, “Are you finished being an asshole tonight or am I going to have to deal with this throughout our whole conversation?” The smile softens as Percy’s face heats up from embarrassment.

            “Well I figured I might as well be one while I have an excuse.” Percy reaches up to rub the back of his neck and manages to smear oil on that as well. He sighs before pulling off his gloves and placing them on the table to his right. “Otherwise, I’m just being an asshole for no reason and I’m sure you know well enough by now that I don’t like to do things without a reason.”

            Percy hears a small laugh escape Vex and watches as she bends at the knees to whisper to Trinket before the bear stands up, huffs, and walks away. Vex stands back up and looks at Percy, eyes meeting his again, “No, I suppose you don’t.”

            There’s a moment of silence between them filled with the tension of unsaid things. While Percy shifts his weight uncomfortably, Vex continues to lean causally against the doorway and stares at him, seemingly unperturbed. Percy wishes that he could outlast her; that he could beat her at her own game, but Percy knows when he has lost and decides to break the silence before it grows unbearable:

            “Are you going to tell the others what I said?”

            Vex’s response is a bit faster than normal and she breathes it out instead of speaking it clearly, “No, I think you can trust me to keep it quiet.” She pauses as if considering to say something further but doesn’t continue.

            “Thank you,” Percy inclines his head again, “I appreciate it.”

            Vex smiles, but it is sad and filled with something Percy can’t identify, “You left your gun in the sand after killing Anna.”

            Percy grimaces, “Yes, I know.” There’s a pause in which he takes a deep breath before releasing a heavy sigh. He breathes in again before continuing, “I’m just not sure I can keep using them, Vex. It just doesn’t seem right that I should be trusted with them after I let them loose on the world by proxy of Anna.” Percy takes a few more steps back and leans against the workbench behind him heavily, “I know that I didn’t sell those guns to, _whoever_ she sold them to, but she couldn’t have done that if I’d dealt with her properly two months ago or if I’d simply never made a deal with Orthax to begin with.”

            A moment passes before Vex takes a few steps into the workshop and takes a seat on top of the table that Percy had just placed his gloves on. She leans forward on her hands to stare more intently at Percy, legs uncrossed, “That seems a bit melodramatic don’t you think, darling?”

            A short bark of a laugh escapes Percy’s mouth before he can stop it, “I believe you are perfectly aware of just how melodramatic I can be.”

            Vex smiles again and turns her head down before picking up a small contraption next to her right thigh, “Yes, I know, you’re almost as bad as my brother.” She laughs at her own joke, or maybe a memory, and then falls silent. Percy watches at Vex begins to move her fingers over the small device she’d picked up.

It is a small toy that Percy had absent mindedly crafted while thinking up larger ideas a few weeks ago. All it does is whirr and whizz and tick loudly when one of the gears gets caught on a small piece of metal that Percy hadn’t managed to align correctly. Though it is broken, Percy hadn’t gotten around to scrapping it yet, mostly because he’d been distracted with other things as of late.

            The sounds of the toy fill the workshop and Vex smiles and places it back on the table, the ticking continuing despite her no longer holding it. Her smile quickly fades and is replaced with a hard frown, “So you’re going to give up guns in the middle of a war with dragons because you don’t think they feel right?” Vex looks back up at Percy, eyes angry, “Seems a bit foolish don’t you think?”

            Percy’s mouth goes dry at the acquisition, “I-”

            “You’re going to throw away your most amazing inventions because you feel guilty about the damage they _might do_ when someone else is holding them?”

            “Vex-”

            “You’re willing to let innocent people be killed and towns destroyed because you think that you need to be punished for making a mistake?”

            “Please-”

            “I can’t believe you’re the smartest person I know, Percival, because right now, you seem like a _fucking_ idiot.”

            “Vex,” Percy licks his lips, trying to think of what to say. “I am useful in other ways too. I will make you things and I can swing a sword just as well as any of you. I just can’t use my guns anymore.” Percy drops his head in shame and his voice is almost a whisper when it comes again, “I thought I was responsible enough to use them and keep their danger to myself and now I know I’m not.”

            “I’ve let the whole world down, Vex. I can feel it. Everyone was counting on me to keep them out of the wrong hands and I couldn’t even manage do that. You’ve seen what I can do, what could a drunkard who lost a bet do with the Pepperbox? What could a group of bandits on the side of the road do with Retorts? What could an army do with an entire legion of Bad News sharpshooters?” Percy breathes in, not realizing that he had stopped somewhere along the way, “So many people are going to get hurt because of what I’ve done, Vex.”

            Percy doesn’t expect the hug that Vex draws him into. It lasts only a few seconds before she pulls away. She’s less than an arm’s length away now and still holding onto his biceps. Percy can smell the lye of her soap, acutely aware that he had not cleaned himself before coming down to his workshop.

Vex looks at him with a soft smile, “You sound like Keyleth, darling.”

            A small burst of laughter escapes Percy despite himself and he shakes his head, looking down from Vex’s intense stare, “Well, she is the wisest person we know according to the Ravenites, so it can’t be that horrible of a comparison.”

            “Yes, but you’re the _smartest_ person _I_ know, Percy,” Vex’s voice is softer than Percy is expecting and he looks up to catch her eyes again, suddenly aware of how the sharp the grey is, “How many people do you think you’ve saved with your guns?”

            Percy shakes his head, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

            Vex doesn’t change her question, “How many people have you saved using your guns? It’s not a very hard question, darling.”

            “I don’t know. I suppose you and the rest of Vox Machina, directly at least.”

            Vex shakes her head and lets out a frustrated sound, bouncing up and down a bit, “We saved Emon from a war between demons and devils. We stopped a mad beholder from threatening Kraghammer with abominations. We liberated all the people in Whitestone from the Briarwoods and their undead. We killed the ancient dragon Umbrasyl, who was terrorizing a whole town of innocent people after we had freed it from Kevdak’s enslavement. And we’re going to save an entire race of people in Draconia, and we’re going to avenge Keyleth’s family, and we’re going to kill Thordak himself.” Vex pauses to let her words sink in, “And we couldn’t have done any of it without you or your guns, Percy. All those people are alive because of your guns, Percy. Because of what you’ve done.”

            Words fail Percy and he can’t think of what to say as Vex’s perspective floods his mind. She continues for one last sentence, the words hitting Percy harder than the Retort’s hammer striking metal:

            “You can be trusted to use those guns correctly because you know just how dangerous they are.”

            Percy looks towards the Bad News resting against the wall in the corner, the black metal gleaming in the low magical light of the mansion and the precious metals dancing with the flickering light. He thinks of everything he’s ever killed with it and how every bullet rocks him to his very core. He thinks of the times he’s wanted to draw and fire one someone, but instead chose not to. He thinks of every time he’s felt their weight and felt the world staring at him.

            “You’re not a monster just because you think you are, Percy.”

            Percy snaps back to reality and shakes his head, clearing the fog he hadn’t even realized was there away, “Maybe, but I’m not sure the world needed another tool designed for hurting people.”

            Vex tilts her head and sighs, “I think you’re right, but if you hadn’t invented them, someone else would have and who knows what might have happened then.”

            There’s a pause in their conversation that Percy uses to think of Vex’s words. He’d lost himself so quickly in his own spiral of thoughts that he’d forgotten there were so many more ways to look at the situation. It didn’t mean that Vex was perfectly correct and that Percy isn’t what he is, but, for now, Percy will make a conscious effort to take solace in her perspective rather than his own.

            And Percy is thankful. Because, for the first time, he thinks he’s found someone who he can trust to share his whole mind.

            “You know,” The words come out before Percy is able to stop them, “You talk very familiarly about monsters.”

            Vex grants him a grimace, “Yes, well,” she looks away briefly, “You didn’t truly believe that you were the only one did you, darling?”

            Percy sighs and pulls Vex into a hug, the embrace comfortably loose, “I hoped I was but I suspected after what Saundor said to you in that tree that I wasn’t.”

            Vex returns the embrace but doesn’t respond. Percy feels her breathing through his coat and the way her face buries slightly into his neck.

            “Would you like to talk about it, dear?”

            Percy feels Vex shake her head before she pulls away, though her arms linger around his sides, “No, I think for now I am alright.” She pauses, and Percy can just barely see the creep of pink in her cheeks.

            Percy swallows, “Well, if you ever feel that you would like to talk about it, you won’t find anyone more qualified to discuss self-hatred than me.”

            Vex steps onto her toes and presses her lips to Percy’s cheek, despite the oil, “Thank you for understanding.” She pulls back but keeps her arms at Percy’s sides and remains within his.

            Again, Percy swallows, trying desperately to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn’t even say anything though.”

            “I know, but sometimes, that’s what matters most.”

            There’s a flicker of movement in Vex’s eyes and Percy tries not to think about the fact that they had gone to his lips as he licks them unconsciously, “Can I ask why you came down here to talk to me tonight?”

            There’s a pause but Vex doesn’t step away, she shrugs slightly, “We’ve been friends for years, Percy. I’m not about to let you destroy yourself because you think you’re a terrible person.”

            Percy nods after taking a second, “Thank you. I’ll try and be there when you need it most too.”

            “I know you will, darling.”

            There’s a moment between them where anything can happen and Percy feels it burning him. He can feel it in the tightness of his throat and the heat of Vex’s touch despite his clothes. He can see it in Vex’s eyes and the way they are half-lidded, nearly shut. And he can hear it in the way their breathing is so shallow, both in time with each other and the ticking toy sitting on the table.

            Vex steps onto her toes again, moving forward until her mouth is fractions of an inch from Percy’s, “Can I kiss you, Percy?” Her breath is hot against Percy’s mouth and he closes his eyes instinctually. Permission being asked despite the low sound of desire in her voice. Keeping his boundaries in mind despite herself.

            Percy tilts his head so that their noses aren’t crushed together but doesn’t move forward, “I think that would be a terrible idea, Vex.”

            “I know.”

            She doesn’t move back.

            Percy swallows, fighting against every instinct and desire in his body.

            “Then maybe we shouldn’t.”

            And it’s gone.

 Vex takes a step back, a hint of red creeping at her face as she runs her hand through her hair. “Maybe some other time then.”

            A strangled noise escapes Percy’s mouth without permission and Vex laughs as Percy coughs again in an attempt to clear his throat, “Some other time.”

            An awkward silence falls over the both of them as Percy fixes his glasses and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself and Vex tries to look anywhere but Percy.

            Percy breaks the silence, “Thank you again for coming down here tonight, you didn’t have to and I appreciate it.” Though it is clumsy, Percy feels the tension break in the room and Vex smiles at him.

            “Well you know how much I hate being in debt, and I think I still owe you something for titling me in front of my father.”

            Percy smiles, “Believe me, you don’t owe me anything for that. I got more than enough satisfaction from seeing your father’s face when he realized you were more titled than him than should be legal.”

            Vex hums, spinning on her heel, and begins walking towards the exit of the workshop before calling over her shoulder, “Then I suppose the gifts I grabbed for you will be just have to gifts then.”

            Percy raises his eyebrows and follows Vex, grabbing the Bad News from the corner and closing the workshop door as he leaves the room. He wasn’t getting anything done anyway. “Gifts?” His curiosity is piqued. It isn’t often that he receives anything from anyone, and even rarer from Vex. Usually he’s the one gifting things to the party.

            “On your bed.” Percy falls in line next to Vex and he looks at her, trying to read her with no success. “You can thank me in the morning.” Vex spins in her doorway and winks at Percy. “Goodnight, Percival.”

            “Goodnight, Vex.” Percy breathes as he watches her door close. He takes a second as it clicks shut to gather himself and re-screw his head back on before he walks three doors down and enters his own room. He is glad that the almost-kiss hadn’t made it horribly awkward between the two of them. Though he hates himself for denying himself the pleasure, for now, it had been the right decision. Or at least he hopes so.

            Percy looks towards his bed and in the low light sees three things resting on his pillow. Two small guns and a note, the latter resting on top of the gun with a long barrel and large reload chamber. The note, folded and placed over Anna’s gun, has Percy’s name written on it in fine, curved handwriting. He picks it up and opens it, reading what was inside with a smile that he can’t help:

            _Percy-_

_I think that this one should be called Retribution._

_Your Favorite,_

_Vex_

            Percy puts the note and guns on the small table next to his bed and lays down, still fully clothed and dirty from the day. A single though escapes his mind before the wave of exhaustion hits him and the darkness takes him:

            _Retribution it is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this, even though it'll be refuted by canon very soon. Hope you liked it, drop a kudos and a comment if you're so inclined. I really appreciate it.


End file.
